


Sanctuary

by demon_faith



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, M/M, PG-13 – violence, graphic injury and firearms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4521129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demon_faith/pseuds/demon_faith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ryan calls in sick, Esposito goes to investigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Written, with love, for the first Ryan/Esposito ficathon at [](http://ryanandesposito.livejournal.com/profile)[ryanandesposito](http://ryanandesposito.livejournal.com/). Everyone loves boys in danger, right?

Esposito checked the clock again. Ten minutes until Ryan was officially late.

He shook his head and smiled. Since Jenny left him, Ryan had been chronically disorganised, barely able to find a tie in the morning, let alone one that burned out the eyes.

Still, this was cutting it a bit fine. Beckett and Castle were baiting each other by the fancy coffee machine, so she hadn't noticed yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Five minutes. Ryan hadn't been this late since his sister's bachelorette party.

Beckett strolled over from the coffee machine and Esposito leaned forward, ready to reel off a plausible cover story on the fly.

"Ryan-"

"Called in sick. Said he had the 'flu."

Esposito stopped, his mouth hanging open for a moment before he remembered to close it.

"He called in sick?"

Beckett nodded, sliding into her desk chair. Castle looked at Esposito strangely.

"Is that unusual?"

Esposito frowned, fishing out his cell phone. "He didn't call me."

"Ah," Castle said knowingly. "There's the unusual part."

No calls, no texts. In fact, Esposito hadn't heard a peep out of Ryan since they'd left the station house yesterday. And if he'd thought about it, that was damn strange.

Ryan would text him when he got home, after that mugging in his building and because Javier worried, and he usually called around eleven o'clock to make sure Esposito wasn't having trouble sleeping. Recently, Esposito had found himself staying up just to take the call, and they'd talk for ten minutes about the day and the case before Esposito slept a dreamless sleep.

Last night, he'd been so burned out from the triple homicide they were working alongside the Organized Crime unit that he'd fallen asleep in front of the football. He'd started awake at midnight and stumbled into bed, phone call forgotten in the haze of cheap beer and failed touchdowns.

But there had been no perky voicemail when he woke up and no missed call. He hadn't given it much thought, but if Ryan was sick, why hadn't he called? He knew Esposito's mom made the best _arroz con pollo_ in the city.

The more Esposito thought about it, the less sense it made. Belatedly, he realised that Castle and Beckett were both staring at him.

"I'm going to, uh, check some leads," he said, scrambling out of the chair and putting on his jacket. Castle smirked.

"Just make sure you're at the midday briefing," Beckett said, rolling her eyes.

Esposito waved behind him, already hitting speed dial for Ryan's number. Straight to voicemail. Ryan never turned off his phone, like all good cops. He'd drag his 'flu-ridden corpse to the station before he'd ignore an emergency call.

It took all his composure to walk slowly to the car and methodically secure his seatbelt before screeching out of the parking garage at full throttle. The drive to Ryan's was as fast as he could allow without getting booked by the boys in Traffic, and he pulled into the underground parking with a lightening swipe of Ryan's spare access card.

Pulling into a space, Esposito killed the engine and allowed his brain to re-engage. This? Was a major league overreaction. Ryan had called in sick, not fled the country. He was probably just passed out at the kitchen table, cold herbal tea in one hand and clutching the bottle of Tylenol with the other.

Esposito locked the car and headed up to Ryan's apartment. He realised in the elevator that he didn't have anything in the way of tissues or cold medicine – he'd hit the store after he'd made sure Ryan hadn't drowned in the shower while stoned on 'flu remedies.

Reaching Ryan's floor, he walked along the corridor, mentally reviewing the ream-out he was going to give him for keeping him-

Esposito froze.

Ryan's door was ajar.

Pulling out his weapon, Esposito crept along the corridor, all that fear flooding back into his mind.

He was at the door. He nudged it open, gun raised.

Blood. He could smell it. And there, right in front of him, was Ryan.

Sprawled on the sofa, he looked ruined. Esposito forced himself to stay calm, keep his weapon raised, not think about his best friend dead on the sofa.

"Kevin."

Ryan stirred. Esposito released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Javi..."

His voice was weak and his head lolled to the side, revealing a spectacular black eye.

"Hold on, bro."

Esposito kicked the door closed and then went on a systematic clearance of the apartment. He couldn't afford to be distracted by Kevin until he was sure they were out of danger.

Kitchen, clear. Bedrooms, clear. Bathroom...blood everywhere, but no perp for Javier to kick to a pulp.

And then the destroyed living room, with Kevin crumpled on his sofa like a rag doll, stuffing hanging out.

Esposito crashed to his knees, touching Ryan's face to regain his attention. "Hey, bro, I'm gonna call for backup and then we'll get you to the ER, 'kay?"

Ryan grabbed for his wrist, surprisingly strong, and his pale blue eyes widened in panic.

"No doctors," he whispered. "No cops. Promise me, Javi."

Every nerve in Esposito's body felt wrenched the wrong way. He couldn't mean that, could he? That was the concussion talking.

"Bro, you know I can't do that."

Ryan squeezed harder. "Please. No one else...gets hurt."

Esposito placed his hand over Ryan's. "All right. But if anything's broken or you're bleeding out, we're going straight to the hospital, no argument."

Drained, Ryan slumped back against the sofa arm. "Nothing's broken. They were careful."

Esposito gritted his teeth at the defeat in his partner's tone and started checking him over, starting by feeling all over Kevin's head for any sign of a blow. "Want to tell me what happened?"

Ryan's eyes fell closed, but he winced as Esposito probed at his swelling eye. "The DiNozzo boys. Didn't like the way I looked at their sister in the bar."

Taking Ryan's right arm between his hands, Esposito scowled. "A mob hit. Because of the case we're working. We're marching you down to Organized Crime right now, bro. If you can stand."

The skin was slick with blood – a knife had scored several shallow lines across Ryan's bicep. Esposito knocked one of the thin scabs and it started oozing again; his fingers shook as he tried to staunch the flow with the edge of Ryan's ruined shirt.

"I'll tell them I fell." If Ryan hadn't sounded so determined, Esposito would've laughed. Saints preserve them from stubborn detectives who wanted their partners to stroke out.

His hands skimmed Ryan's ribs, and Ryan hissed with pain – cracked, possibly broken – but the left arm was spared. "Ryan, I need to take off your pants.

"Nothing you haven't seen." Ryan's voice was drowsy and Esposito touched his face again, lightly slapping his cheek.

"Stay awake. No passing out on me until you're fit to walk. I ain't hauling your sorry ass to the john."

Ryan's pained blue eyes fluttered open and Esposito had to look away for a moment, as he pulled off the blood-spattered jeans. Thick dark welts over both legs, some having broken the skin completely.

"It was a belt," Ryan murmured. Forget justice, forget procedure – Esposito wanted to beat these guys senseless and drown them in the damn river. No one beat up his partner and got away with it.

"We need to wash this off" is what he said, and without waiting for assent, he slid his hands under Ryan's shoulders and knees.

Ryan sucked in a breath. "Easy, bro," Esposito murmured and lifted him off the couch.

Keeping Ryan as steady as he could, he carried him into his bedroom and set him down on the bed. "I'll run the bath, all right?"

With the water running hot and fast, Esposito returned to Ryan's side and perched on the edge of the bed. "Hey, Kevin? Need to get you out of those things."

Ryan nodded sleepily. Esposito leaned down and touched his cheek. "Kevin, bro, you have to stay awake. You know that. Just a little longer."

Forcing his eyes open, Ryan touched Esposito's wrist. "I know you've...got my back."

Esposito swallowed hard, starting on the buttons of Ryan's shirt. Yesterday's shirt. Shit.

"Not last night."

Ryan kept hold of his wrist. "Don't."

Esposito peeled off his hand gently, before raising the fingers to his lips without thought.

As soon as he'd done it, he felt his face burn scarlet and he stripped Ryan's shirt as quickly as he could. But when he dared to look back at Ryan's face, he saw that Kevin was smiling.

Quickly stripping away Ryan's undershirt and boxer shorts, he averted his eyes and checked the bath temperature. "Can you walk, bro?"

Ryan tried to sit up, but his back seemed to seize and Esposito caught him. "I've got you. Come on."

Esposito lifted Ryan again, trying so hard not to jar him, and then lowered him slowly into the bath water. Ryan hissed with equal parts pain and pleasure, as the wounds stung and the hot water set to work on abused muscles.

"Feels good," Ryan mumbled, then hissed as Esposito started to clean off his arm.

"Stings like a bitch, huh?"

Ryan opened his eyes, bright blue with pain and exhaustion. "Thank you."

Esposito tweaked his nose. "None of that, bro. Chick flick crap."

Ryan laughed, then tensed as he jarred his ribs. Esposito continued to work on cleaning him off, the bath water turning pink and then red with old blood.

"You know you should go to the hospital."

"They said you would be next."

The quiet confession startled Esposito, who gripped Ryan's wrist tightly. "Tell me this wasn't for me, Kevin."

Ryan looked away. Stunned, Esposito let go of his hand, and they sat in absolute silence for a few minutes.

Esposito moved first. "Water's getting cold. Come on."

Slipping his hands under Ryan's armpits, Esposito heaved him into a standing position and then helped him step out of the tub. His legs shook as they struggled to support his weight.

"Javi..."

"Hold onto me, bro." Esposito moved Ryan's hands to his shoulders, taking most of his weight. He then carefully patted him dry, taking care over the scabbing wounds and blossoming bruises.

Ryan's head lolled forward, neck unable to take the strain any longer, and he rested his forehead against Esposito's shoulder. Javier ruffled Kevin's hair, drawing a muffled sigh from his partner.

"Come on – bandages, food, then bed." Esposito leaned down to pick Ryan up in his arms and carry him back into the bedroom.

"M'not hungry." Ryan's words slurred, the bone-deep tiredness dragging him towards sleep.

Esposito laid him on the bed and carefully dressed the worst of the wounds on his legs and arms. He helped Ryan dress in the hideous purple pyjamas that Jenny had bought him for his birthday and settled him back down on the mattress.

"Eat a protein bar and I'll let you sleep," Esposito said, and Ryan nodded in concession. Ryan managed just over half and swallowed down some Tylenol – as if that would even make a dent.

Just as the clock in the living room struck midday, Esposito tucked Ryan into bed and sat on the old chair beside him. As soon as his head hit the pillow, Ryan drifted off to sleep, and Esposito drew his gun.

"Just try it," he muttered to the open door. "I will kill you."

~

At two o'clock, Beckett lost her temper. If the boys were playing hooky and leaving her to handle the entire caseload and babysit Castle all by herself, she was going to catch them in the act and haul their sorry asses back to the station.

"You really think this is necessary?" Castle closed the door on Ryan's ancient elevator.

"It's a little thing called work, Castle. Not that I'd expect you to understand."

Castle shrugged. "I'd take care of you."

Beckett shot him a look. "You'd burn the soup. And then you'd be...loud."

A smirk flashed up on Castle's face. Beckett rolled her eyes and held up a hand. "Don't-"

"I can be loud."

Beckett sighed. Why did she put up with the man? The elevator ground to a halt and Beckett opened the door, marching down the corridor to Ryan's apartment.

She rapped on the door. "Ryan? Open the Hell up and..."

The door swung open, lock ruined. Beckett drew her gun and Castle stepped back and behind her – finally trained, it seemed.

Taking one step into the apartment, she let Castle follow and quietly shut the door. She scanned the room, the smell of blood assailing her nostrils as she took in the wrecked furniture.

A glint of metal-

"POLICE! FREEZE!"

"Beckett, it's me."

Esposito stepped out from behind the overturned armchair, hands and weapon in the air. Beckett dropped the gun barrel and stared at him. Esposito holstered the weapon.

"Let's hit the kitchen – he's sleeping."

Shell-shocked, Beckett followed him numbly. Castle paused by the bloodied sofa and started to reach for the cushions. "Castle, that's evidence."

He nodded slowly, then followed her, his face mirroring her feelings. What the Hell was going on? Why wasn't this place crawling with cops and paramedics? And why did Esposito have his gun trained on Ryan's front door?

In the kitchen, Esposito pulled three mugs from the cupboard, shoving them roughly on the counter. He stabbed at the coffee maker as if it had insulted his mother and then leaned against the counter, arms crossed defensively in front of his chest.

Beckett faced him, trying to force herself to relax. "Want to tell me what's going on here?"

Esposito seemed to deflate and ran a hand over his face. "The mob hit Ryan's place last night. Boy's a mess, but won't let me call anyone. Something about protecting...us."

 _Protecting you,_ Beckett thought, the enormity of this insanity starting to hit her. One of her detectives was seriously wounded, and the other defending him like some kind of Lone Ranger. It was as if she'd walked onto the set of Reservoir Dogs.

"Esposito, if he's critical-"

"You think he'd be here if he was?" Esposito surged forward, incensed, but Beckett held her ground.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Castle said and made a fast exit. Like a rat deserting a sinking ship.

"You should have called me."

Esposito sighed and turned around, shoulders slumped. "I know, Kate. But Kevin insisted – no cops. I haven't had the first idea what to do."

Beckett nodded. Her training insisted she needed to call this in right now, but her instincts told her Ryan was right – drawing attention to what had happened would only put them all in danger. They'd have to go about catching the bad guys some other way.

BANG! Something hit the wall in the living room, heavy and hard. Beckett dived down, Esposito with her, and they waited in silence. Beckett prayed Castle had the good sense to lie low.

"I left him on the couch, I swear!"

Beckett peered through the kitchen doorway – three perps, all armed. The two younger boys she recognised as the DiNozzo brothers, Benny and Matt, and the older man could well have been Mr DiNozzo himself. They wandered around the living room, prodding at their handiwork.

"Think he called his little cop friends?"

"We would've heard of that before now. Banging down our doors, calling our lawyers. Nah, they don't know nothing."

"The two of you shut up." Mr DiNozzo walked towards the kitchen door. Beckett primed her weapon.

Benny DiNozzo then caught his foot on the upturned table and crashed to the ground. Matt burst into peals of laughter, and Mr DiNozzo turned away.

"Detective Esposito requesting backup at Flat 8A, 505 West 54th Street – officer down, suspects armed. Radio silence."

The words were drowned in Matt's laughter and Beckett closed her eyes in relief. Esposito had made the call – this was police business now, and they wouldn't be hopelessly outnumbered for long.

"This is serious, Benny! What if the rat crawled away, huh? You want cops on our ass? Find the pretty boy and deal with him. Now!"

Benny and Matt nodded and moved towards Ryan's room. Beckett put a steadying hand on Esposito's arm. Mr DiNozzo headed back towards the kitchen.

"On three," Beckett murmured. "One, two-"

~

Castle found Ryan's bathroom and washed his hands, splashing some water on his face. He'd seen people shot, he'd seen apartments wrecked, but this was personal and far too close. He remembered the ruins of Beckett's apartment, how he'd run through the burning furniture screaming her name.

He wondered what Esposito had done when he saw Ryan.

Wandering into Ryan's bedroom, he sat on the chair beside his bed, still warm from where Esposito had been watching him sleep. Castle glanced across and saw sleepy blue eyes watching him.

"He called you."

"No, he didn't."

Ryan closed his eyes again. Castle took in the bruises, the vivid purples and yellows marring Ryan's face. "Is Beckett gonna call it?"

The bang of the door carried through the house like a shot. Ryan bolted into a sit and then bit off a scream. Castle knew this could only be bad news.

"Come on," he said, taking Ryan's arm and helping him out of the bed. "We need to hide and stay safe."

Ryan looked at him wildly. "But Esposito is out there!

Castle slung Ryan's arm over his shoulder. "And he will kill me if you get shot."

The closet looked big enough to hold Ryan and, with a minimum of protesting, he settled Ryan on the closet floor amongst a graveyard of shoes. Castle pushed it shut and then wondered what the Hell he was going to do.

Spotting the adjoining bathroom, he hurried over and stood behind the door, eyes eagerly searching for a weapon. Nothing. Not even a scrubbing brush.

The sound of laughter carried from the living room. Pity Beckett hadn't let Esposito shoot the bastards. Yet. A man's voice yelling, but Castle couldn't make out the words.

He really hoped Beckett had a plan, or else they were-

The bedroom door opened.

~

This was all his fault.

As Ryan sat in the closet, he realised just how badly he'd screwed this up. Of course Esposito had come looking for him. And then Beckett and Castle could never stay away from a mystery, especially with two detectives suddenly missing. Now they were all in his apartment, facing down the exact people he had been trying to keep away from them.

He heard the bedroom door open. Pushing himself up, wincing as numerous injuries reported in, he peered through the crack in the closet door. Benny and Matt.

Ryan brushed aside the clothes that were knocking at his fragile head, and his fingers touched leather. He pulled and found his service revolver in his hand.

Benny walked towards the connecting bathroom and Matt took in the unmade bed. Then, he grinned and walked towards the closet. Ryan muttered a curse as he realised there was a faint trail of blood droplets leading Matt right to the closet.

He released the safety.

A shout from outside – and then gunfire. Benny and Matt turned for the door. Ryan threw open the closet and caught a glimpse of Matt's face before he shot a hole in his chest.

A blur by the bathroom enveloped Benny, who screamed as he went down.

Then, silence.

Esposito appeared in the doorway, wild-eyed and bleeding. He spotted Ryan and ran towards him, crashing to his knees and wrapping his arms tightly around Kevin's body.

"You're all right."

Ryan stared at Esposito's arm. "Are you shot?"

Esposito glanced at it. "It's a graze, bro."

Javier tightened his arms around him and kissed the top of his head. Kevin leaned into the embrace, fighting back the hysteria that threatened to boil over at any moment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beckett enter the room, glance at them and then head into the bathroom.

"A shower curtain? Really, Castle?"

"Hey! I took out a bag guy! With a gun! This is going in Naked Heat!"

Suddenly, Ryan was aware of more officers in the room, with Beckett chewing them out for the delay. But he could only think of the rich scent of Javier's cologne and how he was safe now in the circle of his arms.

~

"Kevin?"

Ryan opened one sleepy eye. Esposito was leaning over him, bearing gifts of coffee and bagels gripped tightly with his good arm.

"You're back early."

"Montgomery gave me the week. Said he couldn't have a cop with a busted arm on the streets."

"Mm...I'm not complaining."

Esposito looked at him a little strangely and then deposited himself on the couch next to Ryan. Reaching out with one arm, he drew Ryan close, embracing him on the couch. They had done this ever since Ryan had been discharged from hospital, resting together on the new sofa. Sometimes, Javier would kiss his forehead or his cheek, and Ryan fought down the thrill that bubbled to the surface every time.

Because it didn't mean anything. It was a friend reacting to nearly losing his partner. Like a brother. Always like a brother.

Yet, in the light of the morning, something felt different. Ryan found himself leaning a little closer, as Esposito's hand tightened on his shoulder, and he felt something shift into alignment.

So, when he turned his head to the side and brushed his lips against Javier's, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He paused then, holding his breath. Had he ruined it? Was Esposito going to throw him off in disgust and leave?

"Are you sure about this, bro?" Esposito's voice was uneven, hesitant, and Ryan realised that he was just as frightened as he was.

"Absolutely." And Ryan kissed him again.

~finis~


End file.
